A Periwinkle Dress
by Beena-Pani
Summary: [After Hamelin. Complete.] The answers to one of the questions we are left with after finishing the book: what happened to Mellon?


Disclaimer: I don't own 'After Hamelin', or anything from it. If I did, I'd be pretty proud of myself, since it's my favourite book and all.  
  
Author's Note: 'After Hamelin'. My favourite book. Yes, I like it even more than 'Harry Potter', 'Holes', 'Artemis Fowl', and perhaps even more than 'The Sight'. It's THAT good, but it's by a Canadian author, so it doesn't get much publicity. Does that matter? Heck no! So, why don't you go and read it while I gloat about how I've written the first 'After Hamelin' fic out there? I'll be staring... Now!  
  
I WROTE THE FIRST 'AFTER HAMELIN FIC'! WOOHOO! 'AFTER HAMELIN', 'AFTER HAMELIN'! YEAH! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! BELLE AND QUENTIN FOREVER! ALLOWAY ROCKS MY SOCKS! GO PENELOPE! WOOOOOOHOOOOO! I WROTE THE FIRST 'AFTER HAMELIN FIC' AND I'M PROUD OF IT! SCALLYWAGGLE IS A PRETTIFUL CAT! 'AFTER HAMELIN'! YAYNESS!  
  
Yeah. Here's the story that has made me so proud **sheds a single tear**  
  
~*~  
  
'Harpy, Harpy, Scarface, her wrinkled skin does sag,  
  
She cannot hear a single thing, for she's an ugly hag!'  
  
That is what Mellon sings as he passes by my house after Micah and Penelope came. The Shadow has become impatient.  
  
"What is your answer, Penelope?" it asks again and again. I watch Mellon through narrowed eyes.  
  
"Hush, Shadow," I say, watching as the gang of boys join their leader in the newest verse. "Before I can give you my answer, I have something I must do."  
  
"Why must you always put this off?" the Shadow whines as though it were a young child. "Are you afraid of what will happen?"  
  
"No, Shadow, I am not afraid. I simply have one last task I wish to complete." And with that, I get up and walk out the door. Mellon is still standing there, taunting me with an arrogance that suggests I cannot hear what he is saying. Or perhaps that I cannot not do anything. But that does not matter.  
  
I stare at him, pondering what I should do. But I already know what I have been meaning to do for a long time.  
  
"You call me 'Harpy'," I say calmly, shocking him and his gang. They can't believe that Harpy, Harpy, Scarface actually spoke. "But do you know what a harpy really is? It is one of the most terrible creatures imaginable. You, of course, have never seen one if you can mistake me for one. My scar, that you have so fondly named me after-" I run a finger down my cheek, over my scar. "-Was given to me by one. I find it ironic that you should call me 'Harpy' when a harpy made me 'Scarface'. I am old, just like you have said. And soon I shall be gone. But that does not mean I can't put an end to your troublesome ways." I let a small smile show as they look at each other in confusion.  
  
All except for Mellon. He is smirking at me, no doubt thinking up a new rhyme.  
  
'Harpy, Harpy, Scarface, crazy as a loon,  
  
Thinks she met her namesake, some old, vile goon'  
  
My smile grows and I search my memory, checking to see if I have remembered perfectly.  
  
And I have. For once, a look of terror crosses Mellon's features as I speak the words I heard the Piper use on Alloway, the same words I used to transform myself. And though ninety years have passed, I say them perfectly, as though I had heard them mere seconds ago.  
  
The rest of the boys freeze, staring at their leader. Time seems to slow down as he shrinks. His eyes become black and beady, his nose a little, pink, twitchy thing that is surrounded by whiskers, his legs become smaller and his feet and hands become small, clawed paws. Dark brown fur sprouts all over his body as his clothes grow far too large for him, falling about in a heap, his short, blonde hair disappearing, his ears becoming large and round, and, finally, a fat rat's tail appears.  
  
I scoop him up in my hands and say, "You got what you deserved, Mellon," to the rodent sitting on my palms. Then I gently put him back down and walk back to my house without looking back at his gang. The Shadow is waiting, sitting in my chair. I sigh as I remember what I promised it, but it is a happy, relieved sigh, not a sad one.  
  
"Have you completed your task, Penelope?"  
  
I smile again, or perhaps it never faded. "Yes, Shadow, I have. And I am very pleased with what happened."  
  
The Shadow waits for me to continue.  
  
"Now, Shadow," I say, still amazed at what I did. A feeling of complete happiness washes over me. "I shall give you my answer. Yes. That is my answer, Shadow. Yes." I take the Shadow's hand and look down at myself. I laugh and tears come to my eyes, as I feel suddenly strange. No longer am I happy enough to take up my skipping again, but I do not feel sadness, either. Instead I feel a sort of relief, an escape from the harshness of reality.  
  
And I am wearing a periwinkle dress.  
  
~*~  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! If you've read 'After Hamelin', I love you. If you haven't, I love you anyway, because you read this. Either way, it would be nice if you left a review.  
  
Maybe I'll write some more 'After Hamelin' fics soon! 


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